


Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

by Schuldig



Category: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler)
Genre: Christmas, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 20:43:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schuldig/pseuds/Schuldig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grell and William team up with Sebastian to stop Santa committing mass murder and reveal the truth about his relationship with his elves. (Loosely based on the manga canon. Seasonal comedy, some sex. Yuletide 2009.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jeeperscreeperz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeperscreeperz/gifts).



Dark shapes moved along the horizon near Balmoral Castle. The sun glowed cheerlessly, the rays blocked by low-hanging snow clouds. In the distance, church bells rang for morning worship. All else that could be heard was a rhythmic beating in the air, like a flock of pigeons beating their wings in time. The sound drew closer.

Her Majesty's coach, pulled by two white stallions, clattered out of the iron gates and onto the gravel path. A gloved hand adjusted the carriage's velvet curtains. The sound that had once seemed as indistinct as the mist that surrounded them now swelled to a cacophony equal to the fall of horse's hooves.

John Brown, the driver of the coach, scanned the skies for the source of the drumming sound. It moved; sometimes it was behind them and sometimes just ahead of them. With a crack of his whip, Brown urged the horses to go faster. The sound grew louder and louder until he was certain it was right above their heads and matching their speed.

It rose in pitch, then everything seemed to just fall away. Brown pulled on the reins to calm the horses and Queen Victoria's face could be seen peering cautiously out from behind the curtains. The carriage rolled to a standstill.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, then a large wooden box hurtled from the sky and smacked into the ground, scattering gravel outwards from the site of impact. Brown's heart thudded in his throat as he jumped down from his perch and approached the box.

It was brightly painted in primary colours and covered in big, simple shapes. Yellow triangles, blue squares and red circles. At the top was a big gold catch at the same height as Brown's visor. He scratched his head as he noted what was written on the side facing away from Her Majesty's carriage.

On the side of the box, written carelessly in darker red paint were the words "Santa Claus is coming..."

It exploded.

 

***

 

Ciel felt warm sunlight upon him and shot upright in his bed, squinting into the sun. He could just make out his butler, Sebastian Michaelis, fastening the curtains in place next to the window. Despite the sunlight almost blinding him, Ciel could make out dark tendrils that curled around Sebastian's left leg and tightened until they blended with his black coat-tails. His whole body seemed to be crawling with black, worm-like creatures that wriggled and slithered across his skin.

Ciel had once wondered why no one else saw this and decided that the human race was stupid. He'd never once considered that he might be the only human capable of seeing it. In any case, the nature of his contract with a demon and its significance paled in comparison to breakfast. There was a trolley laden with breakfast foods on the other side of the room, near the door, and he could already smell warm cinnamon and brandy.

"Mm... What's that?" Ciel clumsily rubbed his eyes.

"I've prepared a plate of mince pies for breakfast. Buttery pastry stuffed with apples, sultanas, candied peel and spices. As for tea, I took the liberty of pairing it with a green tea from China."

"Longjing Superior? Yes, I can tell."

"And you're only half-awake. As excellent as always, young master."

"What's the schedule for today?"

Sebastian smiled and brandished a letter with the Queen's seal on it and a newspaper. "It may change significantly after you read this letter. Coincidentally, the front page of The Times carries a story about explosives appearing out of nowhere across Britain."

"Out of nowhere?"

"So the witnesses claim. Two of the most recent being John Brown and Queen Victoria herself. That story is not mentioned within the newspaper, but all the details are contained within the letter."

Ciel opened the envelope and read the letter once, his expression never changing. "I see. I'll need to look at the remains of the explosive containers."

"I can go on ahead to Scotland Yard, if you like? There are still sales charts for Funtom's Christmas line of toys waiting for your appraisal."

"True. It's possible that these news stories may affect our sales this Christmas."

Sebastian smiled. "Quite possibly."

"I want you to go to London and report to me anything you notice about the explosives or the containers. Telephone me as soon as you are able."

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian raised a hand to his chest and bowed deeply. To all appearances, his respect for the young master was sincerely and honestly felt. He spun on his heels and headed for the door.

"Sebastian!" Ciel called after him. "Don't forget to dress me!"

 

***

 

Sebastian loved the smell of the evidence room at Scotland Yard. It smelled of dead things, which was something he could always appreciate. In many ways, the mingling of dust and formaldehyde reminded him of home. He picked up a jar on a shelf and looked beyond its grimy surface at its contents. Some internal organs, possibly a heart and a pair of lungs. He smiled to himself. It really was just like home.

There was no discernable order to the room in the basement and the chipped metal shelves seemed to form a maze to the centre. Nevertheless, he knew he was getting closer, because the room was filling with the stench of death. There was only one thing that reeked more convincingly of death than the dead and that was a Reaper.

Sebastian turned a corner and saw him.

The other man was looking with disgust at a candy-striped ribbon that was curled inside a plastic bag. With careful movements, he folded the entire thing twice and placed it inside his inner pocket. He then looked straight up at Sebastian, allowing no room to doubt that he'd always known he was there.

"Sebastian Michaelis. What a surprise."

Sebastian bowed. "At your service."

William Spears adjusted his glasses. "I'll never need the services of a demon."

"Surely you're not here merely to pick up your co-worker's last pieces of clothing?"

William said nothing and ran his eyes over each shelf, seemingly making sure he hadn't missed a single item of evidence from the Jack the Ripper case. After some time had passed, his retrieved his clipboard from where it was tucked under his arm and started taking some notes.

"This is quite some overtime, isn't it?" Sebastian's smile widened.

William clicked the top of his ballpoint pen. "You're still here?"

"Of course. On the orders of the Phantomhive family."

William lowered his eyes. "I see."

"Tell me what you know and I'll tell you what I know."

William curled his lip into a sneer that was filled with more submission than anger and led him to a ledge just beyond where he'd been standing.

A shelf had been removed to allow the remains of the wooden box to fit. Rotten spikes stuck upright from the base and something yellow scuttled inside.

Sebastian leaned over and breathed deeply. "Smells like mould. Like you."

"I do not--" William broke off sharply and his eyes narrowed. "I-I've already made my observations. I assume you've already drawn your own conclusions. Now back to the manor house with you, demon!"

Sebastian smiled. Again. Maddeningly. "And what does the Cinematic Record say?"

William turned away. "I've told you everything I can."

"Is your time truly this precious?"

"Of course."

Sebastian reached over and rested a hand lightly on his shoulder. "You're on the clock right now, aren't you? Every time you indulge yourself now, whether it be pleasures of the mind or of the flesh, you're getting paid."

William frowned. His was a face made for frowning. "We... aren't talking about talking anymore. Are we?"

Sebastian removed the glove from his right hand with his teeth. "I'm talking about making time to enjoy yourself."

"You... you know about my sudoku puzzles?" William shrugged off Sebastian's hand and held up his clipboard like a shield. Something in his eyes suggested he could be joking or bluffing.

"Of course. They're produced by Funtom. But think deeper... you're getting paid according to your hourly rate, no matter what you're doing." Sebastian unzipped his trousers with his ungloved hand. "If you comb your hair for a minute, that's tuppence. Buy a newspaper on a street corner and that's a full hour's pay if you stop to read it.

William stood his ground. "Demons are soulless creatures. There's no reason for you to be interested in... to be interested in _that_."

Sebastian laughed. The sound echoed around them both, despite the cramped surroundings. William's eyes widened as he saw fat pink worms wriggling towards him in his peripheral vision. He shook and turned his head, but there was nothing there.

"On the contrary, William. I possess many souls and I believe I'm about to acquire one more."

Sebastian leaned forward until their lips were touching, then pushed forwards by just half a centimetre more. Their lips touched. With the taboo broken, William pushed his tongue into Sebastian's mouth, eager for his attention.

Sebastian stared into his eyes with the same dispassionate look he had when preparing dinner for Ciel, but William didn't seem to see it. When Sebastian placed both hands on his shoulders and pushed him onto his knees, William accepted and pulled aside the opening to his silk boxers, probing for access with his fingertips.

Once he felt William's warm mouth wrapped around him, Sebastian began his questioning. "What do you know about the explosions?

"God... It must have been a Reaper. Yeah, whoever did it is a Reaper or similar." His words quickly descended into babble and he resumed sucking Sebastian's cock. He wrapped his finger around the base of his own member and stroked fast and hard.

It was lucky this hadn't been purely about getting information, Sebastian conceded, because getting William to blow him wasn't the best choice for that. "Really? Did you come here alone?"

"Grell... is waiting in a... tea house. This is a probationary period for her, so I'm here too..."

"Tsk tsk. How unfortunate that you're saddled with that thing yet again." Sebastian stroked the back of William's head, feeling his steady rhythm. Despite his harsh, angular features, his hair was soft.

"Yeah? You can't do anything without that brat around. With no orders, you're reduced to using me for information." His breathing sped up and Sebastian pulled his head forward and back onto his cock.

"And what a good job you're doing with that role." Sebastian tapped the back of William's head and inhaled sharply.

William threw himself backwards into the shelving, gulping in air. His fringe was tousled, but the rest of his hair remained glued in place with pomatum. His glasses were crooked and cum glistened on his lips. "That was four shillings and eight pence," he muttered, dabbing at his lips with a handkerchief.

 

***

The person waiting in the teahouse, although unadorned by crucifixes or other religious symbols, was wearing a uniform from a local church school for girls. She had jet black hair which had been tied back and braided into pigtails. A black veil hid her face.

Sebastian looked sideways at William. "Reaper schoolgirls? Times _are_ tough in recruiting."

"This schoolgirl isn't new. She's been a pain in the arse for quite some time now."

When the girl saw them she rose to her feet and bowed her head meekly. "I'm so sorry for the trouble I caused you, Mister Michaelis."

A flicker of recognition and doubt crossed Sebastian's face. The voice was more mature and huskier than he'd expected, but there was also a hint of familiarity. He took a seat at the table and both William and the girl followed suit.

"Not just you, but I'm sorry for the trouble I caused Earl Phantomhive and Madame Red..." she paused to wipe away a single tear, which wasn't enough to smudge her dark black makeup.

"Grell Sutcliff."

"Ahaha, Sebastian! You remembered m--" Her voice rise and fell, taking in several octaves, then broke off. She looked away. "I'm going to be good from now on, Mister Michaelis. I even gave up wearing red. I don't deserve that colour."

Grell picked up a notebook and pencil that had been lying next to her teacup and saucer on the table and placed them both in her handbag. She looked at William for the first time since they'd entered the teahouse. "I've been writing a poem in memory of Madam Red. Can you think of anything that rhymes with 'red'? I've already used 'dead' twice in the first stanza."

"Try using 'Angelina Dulles'," said William with a long-suffering sigh.

Grell squealed in delight, revealing a row of abnormally sharp teeth glinting behind her veil. "Oh, that's perfect! It opens up so many more possibilities!" Once again, her voice rose to fever pitch and then fell away by the end of the sentence. She shifted in her seat and adjusted her skirt. Then she rested her elbows on the table and propped her chin up on her hands. "Any leads, Mister Spears?"

William's forehead furrowed and he regarded Grell with great pity. "It's definitely the guy we were thinking of."

Sebastian looked at him in disbelief. "You already knew who it was?"

"Yeah," Grell answered for him. "And we'd rather go to Earth to double-check our hunch in case it's wrong than visit... _that_ guy without reason." She downed her tea in one gulp. "He's creepy."

"We _don't_ fear him," stated William. "But yes. There's something corrupt about that whole department..."

"The Seasonal Department," Grell added.

"Of your company?"

"Another subsidiary of our parent company, yes, but I doubt anyone could tell the difference." William looked pointedly at Sebastian. "Adjoining buildings, same water cooler, same office equipment supplier."

"The guy's called 'Old Saint Nick'. He started out as a one year hire, but by the time his contract was up for renewal, everyone feared him too much to ask him to leave."

"He's lived in that workshop for hundreds of years now, living off chocolate eggs--"

"Chocolate eggs?" interrupted Sebastian.

"From the Easter bunnies!" snapped William. "Obviously!"

"The main problem, apart from the way he stares at my bottom, is the elves."

"Elves?" said Sebastian, wrapping his arms around himself. "_Elves_?"

"The elves," said Grell firmly. "They've always bought their toys from Funtom, so he doesn't need them. Magical beings don't need an army of youthful, elfin creatures to do their bidding. Not for work, anyway."

"We'll start by going to the workshop then."

William smiled sourly at Grell. "Makes a change wiping up someone else's shit."

Grell wrung her hands together. "Is that a sexual thing? I don't really think I could get into that."

"Grell..."

"Maybe if it's you. Or Sebastian." As she stood up, she grabbed the potted plant from the table that Sebastian had just assumed had been decoration and held it against her chest.

"You're taking that thing?" asked Sebastian.

"I forfeited my Deathscythe." Grell looked over her round-rimmed glasses. "I had to choose one of the three starter Deathscythes, so I took the grass type. Its name is Charlene."

"A damn fine name for a potted plant." Sebastian rested his hand on William's shoulder, brushing away imaginary dandruff. "I trust this contact is enough to be transported with you?"

"You're so rude when away from the manor house," remarked William.

And with that, they were somewhere else entirely.

 

***

Sebastian, William and Grell landed in a sea of unseasonal poppies that spread for miles. Directly in front of them was an aging warehouse with a hand-painted sign that welcomed them to Santa's Workshop.

Inside, the wooden floor near the entrance was dusty and covered in tiny shoeprints. Up ahead was a large brass machine with glistening whistles on top and tubing that snaked around a small seat in the centre.

"What kind of toy does that make?" asked Grell.

"That's not for manufacturing toys. That's the world's most expensive steam-powered elf-sized sex toy." William pointed to a sign in bold type on the side that read 'EXCESSIVE MACHINE 1900: Towards A New Century'.

[Scene abridged to preserve the sanctity of the Cinematic Record.]

"I've lived in the capital city of hell on and off for hundreds of years and I've never seen anything as horrific as that." Sebastian said as they finally reached the end of the row of machines. He scanned the roof of the warehouse. "_Elves_, you said...?"

William laughed quietly and Sebastian wondered if he'd ever heard the other man show any kind of amusement previous to this moment. "It seems you have some problems with..." he sidled closer to whisper in Sebastian's ear, "...elves."

Sebastian shuddered. "It's a perfectly normal phobia. Like clowns. Or spiders. Or heights. While I have _none_ of these, it's not abnormal."

Grell nuzzled against William like a cat. "Hold me?"

"Me?" William shot a quick glance in Sebastian's direction.

Grell nodded and dragged William's free arm around her left shoulder. William squeezed once and then brought his arm back to his side.

"We should split up and search the place. If we can't find Old Saint Nick, we should at least find one of his elves."

"I'll try over here," Grell said.

Sebastian bowed. "And I will take this direction."

Sebastian was barely ten metres into the workshop when h soon heard another set of footsteps behind him.

"Sebastian. Are we finished so soon?"

Sebastian spun around and found himself eye-to-eye with William. He laughed softly. "I can always delay an investigation into treason for a little... _fun_."

"Do you have any protection?" whispered William, moving closer.

"What kind of butler would I be if I couldn't produce lubrication and condoms at a moment's notice?"

"Good," said William and kissed him awkwardly.

"What the HELL is going on?" said a voice from behind them both. Although Grell was wearing flat, plain shoes, she managed to stomp up to William, who was paused mid-kiss, as if she was wearing platforms.

"We were making love."

"You were... what? L-love...?" Grell blinked in confusion then regained her composure. Instead of nodding demurely, she screamed. "You evil bastards! Blood-red isn't good enough for you.... You deserve so much worse... AND I WILL GIVE YOU IT!"

William patted her on the shoulder. "Welcome back."

Grell spun around and their eyes met. Something in William's eyes caused her to back away. Their eyes locked for an eternity, until she grinned, showing all her teeth.

"You betrayed a goddess like myself... in order to restore my grace and beauty that were thrown into the pit of lost love caused by my defeat and Sebastian's rejection?"

"Er... Yes. And we need someone to work the 6 am shift on Monday morning."

William turned to Sebastian. "I did it only to awaken Grell. I wanted her back." He adjusted his glasses, hiding his eyes. "If nothing else, we have massive staffing shortages."

"You keep telling yourself that. Personally I would've just gone to Knightsbridge and bought the most expensive crimson dress I could find from Harrods. No, you wanted me."

"Did not!"

"Gentlemen, I think I have a solution. It's called a 'Sutcliff Sandwich'." Grell opened her arms, welcoming them both.

"Must you call it that?" William looked blankly at his surroundings, trying to work out the series of events that had led him here.

Grell looked at him. "Does anyone really care about what it's called when they make love to a goddess? Ah, but I forgot something..."

She removed a comb from her purse and brushed her hair. A charge of electricity shot through the air and when it subsided, Grell was transformed. Long red hair, thick eyelashes and dark red lipstick. Only her schoolgirl uniform hadn't disappeared.

"There. Now it's easier to see who I really am. Wish I'd brought a change of clothes though."

It seemed like a dream. Sebastian felt William fumble as he passed him a condom and lube. Grell's arms brushed against him and he was forced into place in front of her.

To collect on these souls, he had to take charge. Lead them into darkness with a smile. Ah, it was the devil's work.

"I hate you so much," William whispered in Grell's ear as if it were a confession of love. "You keep fucking with me. Every day I fall lower in the eyes of our superiors. Why am I the one on duty when you fuck it up?" He pushed her against Sebastian and kept talking and kissing her neck as he prepared himself.

Sebastian knew they had begun by Grell's cackle of delight. He felt Grell's hardness rub against his leg in time with William's thrusts. "Seems to me you're as bad as each other. A match made in heaven, even if I do say so myself."

"Not like her..." panted William. "Not a chance."

Sebastian ran his fingers underneath the hem of her skirt, but Grell stopped him. "Don't touch me there. Kiss me like they do in shoujo manga."

"I've no idea what _that's_ like." Sebastian leaned over Grell's shoulder and kissed William hard on the lips.

"Bastard..." hissed Grell.

Sebastian felt William's fingers brush against the wisps of his fringe. William's soul was hanging by a thread and it delighted Sebastian to wonder why he'd been chosen above all the Reapers he knew. Well, he and Grell. The only two people guaranteed to disappoint him.

William sped up and grabbed the back of Sebastian's neck as he came. "Oh... God..."

"I loved it when they say that." Sebastian waited for Grell to finish and then pushed her to the floor before he sat down himself.

They say in silence, nobody looking at anybody else, not a word being said. Grell broke the silence.

"I... oh, I found an elf."

The two men looked at her.

"He was very willing to talk," Grell blushed and hid her embarrassment behind slender fingers. "He said Old Saint Nick had used him as a 'stocking filler'."

"What does that even mean?" asked Sebastian.

"Even demons have no clue?"

"Why are you both looking to me for answers?"

William ticked off the two main reasons on his fingers. "Black nail polish, shiny black high heels. Just a guess you'd know."

"Anyway, he said that Nick is going to use the extra powers he gains at sundown on Christmas Eve to visit every household with children under the age of eighteen and kill them."

"Why?" asked Sebastian. "There's no art to that."

"He hates people for some reason. The elf told me that his team were responsible for the explosives. Nick couldn't wait until Christmas to start maiming and hurting things."

William wriggled into his trousers and adjusted his tie. "We need to get going. I will not suffer a demotion for..." he gesticulated wildly at the pair on the floor, "...for _this_!"

"Half the world's children wiped out? Why, that would be a blessing from heaven." Sebastian stretched out lazily on the floor. "I would, of course, stop Old Saint Nick before he reached London. The young master would demand nothing less."

Grell lay there shivering, her eyes half-closed. A smile ghosted on her face.

"We have to find him!" William was shaking.

"This is part of your fall from grace." Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair. "Not because of the sex, but because of the distraction it created within you."

Grell murmured something as she lay on the warehouse floor where Sebastian had dumped her. She traced the wood grain with her fingertips. "Must be almost nightfall on Earth by now. It would make sense if Old Saint Nick was travelling to the nearest inhabited landmass west of the International Date Line."

"That would be the Gilbert Islands, a British colony," Sebastian told them.

Grell's laughter was like a chainsaw as she jumped to her feet. "You're _such_ a good dog, aren't you, knowing the Queen's territory just like that!"

Sebastian examined his gloves and found them sufficiently clean. He seemingly hadn't removed even one item of clothing during the previous moment of passion. He dusted himself off and once again rested his hand on William's shoulder.

 

***

Tarawa was a tropical paradise and Sebastian, William and Grell alighted on the beachfront.

Ahead of them, Old Saint Nick's sleigh appeared on the horizon. He was a large man in a red woollen suit who wore the expression of an exhausted parent who'd spent too long around other people's kids.

"You aren't fit to wear that colour!" Grell declaimed. She reached up into the sky, her A-line skirt blowing in the sea breeze. She paused, and then lowered her arm to point at Old Saint Nick.

His sleigh charged at her at full speed and knocked her flying.

"Don't worry, she'll be fine," William told Sebastian.

Sebastian jumped into the air and twisted until he landed on the rear of the sleigh. In moments, William was beside him and Grell was underneath, clutching the runners.

Old Saint Nick rose from his seated position to address the three. "Have you any idea how disgusting human beings are? I do. I see them when they're sleeping. I know when they're awake. I know when they've been bad or good. And when they've been very, very bad, I know all about it. A famous man once said, 'In order to know virtue, we must first acquaint ourselves with vice.' I've lost faith in that way of thinking."

"Hell, that's a pretty good reason." Grell pulled herself up. "Have you seen the speed this thing is going at? We're over Siberia already!"

"Demotion, Grell, demotion!" William reminded her.

Nick raised his fist, which now glowed. "Don't agree? Then _die_. Divine Fist of the North Star!" he called out, driving his special move into the nearest person.

Sebastian gripped his wrist. "I'm a terribly sorry. You've picked the wrong butler to attack. I don't _have_ pressure points like humans."

 

***

 

"There's got to be something cuter than a monkey," Ciel Phantomhive mused to himself. "Maybe I should ask Lizzie."

He patted the toy monkey on the head and its eyes glowed red. He wasn't happy with this update and it looked more eerie than adorable. Maybe a rabbit would be better? Lizzie was sure to know.

"Hey there! Got you a _new_ apple tart, since ya didn't like the last one."

Bard had forgotten to knock yet again. Ciel yawned slumped backwards in his chair and wondered when Sebastian would return or at least call.

"It's burned again, isn't it?"

"Nope! It's flambéd. Flamethrower flambéd."

"It's still burnt black." Ciel poked at it with a fork.

Bard laughed nervously. "And what are you up to? Young master?"

"Trying to decide if we should keep this monkey as part of the Funtom toy line next year. Its sales this year have been appallingly low. I suppose what I'm asking myself is whether I'd be happy if Father Christmas bought me this for Christmas."

"Father Christmas? You still believe in Santa at thirteen?"

Ciel looked him straight in the eye and ran his fingers over his ring. "You're telling me Father Christmas isn't real? Ridiculous. Who else could be responsible for bringing presents then?"

"In this household?" Bard thought for a split-second, not wanting to use the word 'parents'. "Sometimes Tanaka. But mostly Sebastian."

"How dare you!"

"Look, I'm just saying is all. He ain't for real."

There was a shrill scream, the sound of something being ripped apart and then a blast of cold air. Both Ciel and Bard stared open-mouthed as a man dressed as Father Christmas hurtled downwards past the window and straight into a bed of Winter Irises outside.

Ciel jumped to his feet, wheezing, and grabbed his cane. Before he dashed down the stairs, he turned to Bard. "_You see_?"

 

***

 

"I'll finish you!" Grell screamed at Nick, who was picking himself out of the flowerbed. With that, she raised Charlene above his head and threw it against Nick's skull.

The flowerpot smashed, but to little avail. Old Saint Nick drew himself up to his full height and grabbed Grell just as Ciel ran out of the main entrance.

William telescoped his tree pruner into Nick and forced him backwards. He was flung against the wall of the manor house. "Sebastian! Do something! He was just about to do his Fatality Spine Rip move!" he shouted.

"Sebastian! Stop messing around! Immobilize him..." Ciel gulped. "Immobilize Father Christmas. That's an order!"

Sebastian bowed. "Yes, my lord."

William stared at the scene before him, opening and closing his tree pruner. "I'm never seeing another promotion again," he whimpered.

Old Saint Nick got to his feet. He tottered and swayed, but managed to keep himself upright. It was all in vain. Sebastian rose up from behind. With a sweeping motion, he cut Nick's throat at the side. Nick lightly touched his throat and saw his hand was covered with blood. Before it could really register, he collapsed.

"Where did you get a blade?" asked William, looking at Father Christmas' fallen form.

"Oh, this?" Sebastian held it up. "It's merely a shard of pottery from a flowerpot."

"As expected of a demon."

"Really? I'm just a butler. A _dreadful_ one, at that."

William managed a wry smile. "This is at least a week's worth of paperwork right here. I'm holding you responsible." He turned to Grell. "You too."

"I'm going back onto punishment duty, aren't I?" Grell stared at her shoes.

"Probably." He reached down and took the coat off Nick's back. "Maybe this will be some kind of compensation."

Grell's eyes widened. She grabbed the fluffy red and white coat and slipped inside it. "I love it! It hangs off my shoulders perfectly. And it's red!"

Together with William, she helped drag the unconscious body of a man who looked rather like Father Christmas off to the world of Reapers. Just before they disappeared they turned to Sebastian and Ciel and shouted out, "Happy Christmas!"

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this, Jeeperscreeperz, even if it probably wasn't quite what you imagined. I realise I have a rather... "unique" take on canon, particularly Grell. In any case, Merry Christmas. :)


End file.
